"Don't you guys ever get your tongues out of each other's throats? Gag me."

The voice and a sudden flash of blue light instantly broke the mood. Immediately on guard, he and Iolaus were quickly on their feet, facing the intruder in their house.

"Strife! What're you doing here?" Hercules asked accusingly, watching the smirking god for any signs of an impending attack.

Iolaus frowned as he looked Strife over. "What's with the suit and briefcase?" he finally asked.

"It doesn't matter," Hercules cut in before Strife could say anything. "Whatever Ares sent you here to do, forget it. We're not playing anymore of his games."

"Get with the program, Jercules; I haven't worked for Ares in years," Strife said as he tossed his briefcase onto the couch.

"So, you think you're gonna take us on by yourself?" Iolaus snorted at the ridiculous image that presented. "Come on; you know you'll just get hurt."

"Yeah," Strife agreed, "and you know, that's kind of funny. See, this is a totally bitching job anyway, but thinking about all the times you two kicked my ass just makes this even better."

Hercules glanced at Iolaus in confusion; Iolaus just shrugged. He didn't know what was going on either.

"What're you talking about?" Hercules asked.

Strife's smirk widened. "I'm working for the IRS now and I'm here to audit you. Hope you two saved your receipts from the last ten years...."

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